


The World Was Crumbling

by kirani



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, Apocalypse, M/M, Merlin AU, Reincarnation, Reunion, merthur au, once and future love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 15:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6199768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirani/pseuds/kirani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by this edit by the lovely Kit:<br/>http://ofkingsandlionhearts.tumblr.com/post/138965808186/the-world-was-crumbling-the-day-merlin-and<br/>"The world was crumbling the day Merlin and Arthur’s paths finally crossed. For a moment, Arthur could have sworn his heart stopped when he heard the cry of the one he never thought to see again.”<br/>In the middle of an apocalyptic disaster, firefighter Arthur is helping evacuate civilians when he hears the voice he has dreamt of since childhood. He rushes to the man just in time to see him fall, gravely wounded. He finds himself sitting vigil at his bedside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The World Was Crumbling

Arthur Penn has a history of bravery bordering on stupidity. The hardest part of his firefighter training was learning _not_ to rush into burning buildings. For three years, he devoted his life to it.

And to the man in his dreams.

For longer than Arthur could remember, he had dreamed of him. He had an impish smile and messy hair, and when he spoke, Arthur’s heart soared. When they touched, his skin felt electrified.

The dreams seemed like more than dreams. Arthur always had the feeling that they were more like memories, but no one had ever believed him. How could he have memories of a man he had never met?

So Arthur kept it to himself. He kept his memories inside. He never mentioned the man. He never even allowed himself to say aloud the words he knew to be true.

Through it all, he never learned his name. 

~

In a hot tent in the middle of a refugee camp, Arthur was thinking about his dream man. He wished he was there at his side as the world he knew fell apart around him.

The attacks had started last month. Cities were destroyed, millions of people displaced, nothing was safe. The entire world was in the midst of a war that seemed determined to wipe out humanity itself.

First, private companies shut down. The government had held out in the stronger countries for a couple of weeks, until everything went underground. Now, it was all chaos.

Arthur had continued firefighting voluntarily as best as he could with his crew. They continued evacuating and building makeshift shelters outside the city. They worked long hours with makeshift gear salvaged from the ruins of the fire station and whatever civilian gear they could come by.

~

Arthur had learned to sleep lightly and be ready at any time for the alarm. This served him well as his body adjusted to living in constant danger of another bomb.

Late at night, he heard a distant explosion and burst into action. Springing from his cot, he began shaking awake his fellow refugees, urging everyone into the makeshift bomb shelter in the center of their camp. Lance was furiously ringing their alarm bell as he ran towards the shelter. Arthur took one last look around the camp then turned to close the reinforced steel door over the pit. He hauled the door closed behind Lance.

A whistle.

A hit.

An agonized yell of a man in pain.

For a moment, Arthur could have sworn his heart stopped when he heard the cry of the one he never thought to see again.

“Merlin!” The name came to him out of the recesses of memory he didn’t realize he could consciously access.

He wrenched the bomb door open and hauled himself out of the shelter. His crew yelled at him to come back but Arthur left them behind as he sprinted towards the sound.

The sad shell of a building on the outskirts of camp had been hit and bricks had exploded in all directions. Arthur ran, screaming, through the disaster, desperate for any sign of the man.

Finally, he saw the crumpled heap of Merlin, flung unceremoniously against a pile of garbage near the edge of the camp. He was face down in the heap and Arthur immediately thought he was too late.

He grasped Merlin’s shoulder and wrenched him backwards, flipping him onto his back.

In the center of Merlin’s chest was a ghastly wound. Shrapnel had pierced him just above his diaphragm. The red stain spreading across his chest would likely be his end.

Not if Arthur had anything to say about it.

He whipped his jacket off, tying it securely around the thin man’s chest. He checked quickly for a pulse and found a faint flutter. His breath left him in a rush of hot air.

“Merlin, stay with me,” he whispered to the unconscious man. “I can’t lose you now that I’ve finally found you. Just hang in there for me.”

Gently and efficiently, Arthur scooped him up – a firefighter carry would put dangerous pressure on his wound – and, checking for the all too familiar whistle, sprinted for the shelter. As he ran, he shouted.

“Lance! Elyan! Open the door!”

As he approached, he could see the heavy door slowly swinging open. He dove down into the shelter as well as he could with his burden, and heard with satisfaction the bang of the door closing behind him.

He laid Merlin down on a blanket and his first aid duties were taken over by multiple pairs of hands, pushing him out of the way.

He stepped back and retched.

~

Merlin’s wound had been cleaned up patched up as well as it could be in a dirty hole in the ground. When he still hadn’t woken by dawn when Lance gave the all clear, Arthur gently carried him to his own destroyed tent.

Elyan pulled the cot out from the wreckage and Arthur laid Merlin on it. Then they set to work rebuilding their home.

Once the tent was stable again, Arthur cautiously moved Merlin on his cot inside.

He sat beside him and dipped a washcloth into a clean bowl of water. He dripped the water onto Merlin’s cracked lips.

As he brushed back a lock of dark hair, Arthur realized Merlin was burning up.

“Shit!”

Elyan entered the tent at the exclamation. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s feverish,” Arthur answered.

Ibuprofen was available but scarce. Arthur didn’t know how he would justify taking some for someone so gravely wounded. He felt tears began to prick at the corner of his eyes.

“Mate,” Elyan said softly.

Arthur turned to look at him. Outstretched in his hand lay two tiny pills.

“I can’t,” Arthur choked.

“Take them,” Elyan ordered.

Through a watery smile he reached out and took the proffered pills. He gently eased Merlin’s mouth open, inserted the first pill, then closed his mouth and tipped his head forward onto his chest, forcing the swallowing reflex. He dripped more water into his mouth, then repeated the whole process with the second pill.

Arthur’s tears finally escaped when the task was complete, a sob bursting through.

Elyan put his hand on Arthur’s shoulder.

“Who is he?” he asked quietly.

“I knew him,” Arthur said. Then, in barely more than a whisper, “I loved him.”

Elyan sunk to his knees and wrapped his arms around Arthur. He let Arthur cry himself out against his shirt, then offered him his handkerchief to clean up.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur mumbled.

“Don’t apologize,” Elyan insisted.

Arthur smiled weakly and turned to watch Merlin again.

“He’ll come around. I know he will,” Arthur said.

~

Merlin’s fever broke as Arthur napped, but still he didn’t wake. Arthur cleaned and dressed his wound with the best materials available.

Arthur spent hours restlessly watching over the thin body, cautiously helping him drink water, checking for fever. But as he continued his vigil, he began to get angry. How could he do this to him?

Finally, he cracked.

“You can’t die!” He yelled at the inert body. “It’s not fair. You can’t haunt me my whole life and then just die. You can't!”

With the last word, his voice cracked and somewhere deep inside he found more tears.

Arthur stayed up that second night, murmuring pleas for forgiveness, for Merlin to wake, for him to have his Merlin back to him, whatever the cost.

He offered up himself to the universe.

It did not take him.

Near dawn, he finally fell asleep.

~

Arthur’s dreams were turbulent, whipping through memory after memory.

He was commanding Merlin to complete punitive tasks. He was humiliating him. He was ignoring him. And all the while, he hid his love from him.

Daybreak found Arthur once again crying at Merlin’s side.

“I failed you,” he whispered into Merlin’s hair. “I’m sorry.”

He wept until Merlin’s hair was damp with tears.

~

The third night of Merlin’s coma, the bombers came again.

When the loud bell clanged that bombers had been sighted, Arthur hoisted up Merlin’s unconscious form and made for the shelter. He didn’t pause to wake or help anyone. He was consumed by his need to protect Merlin.

Inside the shelter, he felt the stares of the camp upon him. No one knew who the mystery man was, he was not from their camp, and no one knew why Arthur had forsaken his duties to care for someone who was never going to wake up.

Elyan refused to tell.

Arthur claimed a corner of the shelter for the two of them, resting Merlin’s head gently on the packed dirt, then collapsing next to him with a heavy sigh. He had begun to think all his efforts were futile. For all his carefulness, Merlin seemed no closer to waking up. Arthur had no idea what else he could do. He didn’t want to lose him, but he had no other options.

He dozed off and on through the night, checking each time he woke that Merlin’s fever had not spiked again. He still felt warm to the touch but it didn’t seem like a dangerous fever.

When the all-clear was called again, Arthur wearily began readying Merlin for the journey back to the tent. He packed up the few belongings he had brought and turned to gather Merlin.

He froze. Merlin’s eyelids had twitched. Arthur stood, motionless, watching as Merlin woke.

As his eyes fluttered open, Arthur dropped heavily to his knees.

Merlin’s eyes were crossed but they quickly corrected, gazing unfocused up. Then he looked to the figure at his side and his eyes widened.

“Arthur.”


End file.
